Shattered Dawn
by MangaFreak15
Summary: HPxDGM: The Evans were not truly Evans. No, in fact, had they been given a choice they would have been born as Walkers.
1. Prologue

**Shattered Dawn**

Summary: The Evans were not truly Evans; no, in fact, had they been given a choice they would have been born as Walkers. HP x DGM

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**Prologue**

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There came that fateful day, almost like any other ordinary day, filled to the brim with endless fighting, battling, wounding, healing . . . explosions were heard every minute or two, and the acrid stench of smoke diffused through the air as death and destruction rained down upon the city, leaving mutilated corpses behind to rot and decompose in the streets, with puddles of blood lying here and there. The city itself was near to the end, its walls had long since crumbled from the onslaught of cannons and holy weapons clashing again and again, till the skies were black and gray and there was a substantially lesser amount of enemies on either side. The exorcists, bone-tired and exhausted, were simply fighting because it was their duty to uphold, obliged to save the pitiful souls of the poor Akuma from terrifying distortion. Most of the Finders had already fallen, claimed by the sweet grasp of death. Very few exorcists were left to battle, whilst many more Akuma were abound, created by the being known as Adam, the First Apostle, and more commonly as the Millennium Earl. Not only that, but the Noah family had hardly decreased at all; they were simply at the sidelines, watching the carnage with glee, sadistic smiles warping their dark-toned faces until they truly looked as though they had been born from Satan himself. In between they made almost no interference, being true spectators to the horrific event, just as another was, simply recording the battle as history, never intervening; that was the Bookman's job, after all.

Allen had been separated from his fellow exorcists since the beginning of the mindless war, constantly fighting for his life and nearly having it snuffed out or painfully extinguished many times (courtesy of Tyki and the endless stream of level three and level four Akuma). As he performed another attack, he felt the last remnants of his energy sapped away. He hacked up blood from the orifice, feeling the after effects of overusing his Innocence with no time for rest or recovery. He fell to one knee, breathing heavily as he struggled to maintain consciousness. He couldn't afford to die here, not now when a victory was so crucial. The Black Order had already suffered immense losses, and he was determined not to be counted among them. He would fight. He would keep going forward, walking and walking, fighting and fighting, until the last Akuma was finished, and at last he could lay his weary soul to peace. Everything was for Mana, who, despite the stinging realization that Mana might not have loved him at all, seeing only the fading face of his younger brother Neah, the fourteenth Noah residing in Allen's body, Allen still loved.

"Exorcist!" a guttural howl rang out behind him. Allen knew that he would have to stand up if he wanted to fight and survive. He staggered to his feet once again, turning to face the Akuma that was targeting him. But he was not prepared for the abrupt destruction of a building next to him, the wicked red and orange flames reaching for the sky and swallowing the entire street whole, sweeping up any Akuma, Exorcist, Finder, and bodies in existence there with it. Everyone one else could only look on helplessly as Allen Walker, the miracle worker and accused traitor of the Black Order, disappeared into the raging fire.

And when the battle was finally at its end, the Earl had won. He and the Noah family vanished, leaving nothing but the smoldering ruins of the city behind. What they did not know was that Allen Walker still lived, despite the teetering amount of evidence that he had apparently burned to death in the flames. No, he still lived, the Fourteenth's genes within him made sure of that. There were very few survivors, who had either hidden from the Earl or had been knocked unconscious and been mistaken for dead. Among them were Kanda Yuu, Lavi Bookman Jr., Cross Marian, Komui Lee, Froi Tiedoll, and Winters Sokaro. In a few minds, it still had not registered to them that Allen was gone, and he would not resurface. Both Kanda and Lavi did not believe it. Cross denied it. Komui doubted it. But the harsh reality of the situation set in sooner or later. The Black Order was gone, demolished, destroyed, leaving almost no survivors, and letting the terrifying power of the Earl and the Noah run rampant around the world. They would not settle for it. For now they would have to take time to recover, and when they finally rejoined the public flow of time, they would settle everyone once and for all.

Of course, this was all calculated assuming that Allen Walker was, indeed, still alive, and had somehow survived the raging inferno that had swallowed him up in the street. Cross vehemently asserted that his idiot apprentice wasn't so weak that he would die from such a measly little flame. Lavi had agreed, and, grudgingly, so had Kanda.

Allen's body, nor a charred corpse carrying his characteristics, had ever been found during their slow cleanup and recovery, so it was indeed assumed that Allen Walker was alive, and was healing himself just as they were, biding his time until he could meet with them again, to fight the Earl and the Noah. But as the years passed and not once did they hear any sort of news about him, nor did they meet him, see him, or greet him, they became discouraged in their belief.

In the end, only Cross Marian thought that his idiot apprentice was still alive, and he would not sway from his assertion no matter how hard they attempted to persuade him otherwise.

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**I have, like, no excuse for this. Spur of the moment. I'm serious. I'm chugging through my finals, but I still have time to write this stuff and not new chapters for any of my previous stories; that's just sad, isn't it? Review, please?**

**MangaFreak15**


	2. Chapter 1: The Man With Secrets

**Shattered Dawn**

Summary: The Evans were not truly Evans; no, in fact, had they been given a choice they would have been born as Walkers. HP x DGM

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**Chapter One - The Man With Secrets**

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1995, Number Four, Privet Drive

Soft humming floated out from the kitchen in a relatively noisy household. A thin woman with curly brown hair and almost too much neck moved around, cooking a meal for her precious Duddykins since her despicable, horrid nephew was out shopping for groceries. She paused when she heard a few quiet knocks on the front door, but she knew she simply could not leave the stove while she answered it, lest Dudley's food be _burned_; so she called out for Vernon to answer it. The portly man grunted in acknowledgment and stomped to the door, muttering something like 'it better not be another one of those freaks'.

He opened the door and squinted at the man on his doorstep. "Who the hell are you?" he thundered.

Petunia froze when she heard a familiar voice say, "Does Petunia Dursley live here? I would like to have a little chat with her, it's been quite a while, you see."

"I don't know what you want with my wife, but I'm not letting a freak like you into my house!" shouted Vernon.

The voice chuckled in amusement. "Oh, don't be that way, she knows me. Let me in, or I shall use force," said the voice.

"What force? I could tap you with my pinky and you'd fall right over," grunted Vernon.

"Force it is then, since it appears you are resisting me," said the voice cheerfully. There was a loud thud and Petunia heard the sound of the door slamming into the wall. There was a shout, the sounds of a scuffle happening in the hallway, and then footsteps. Footsteps that Petunia knew all too well. When he finally emerged into the doorway, she quickly averted her attention back to the food she was cooking, though she knew she was just delaying the inevitable. His mere presence in the room tickled her senses and clawed at her mind, demanding her to look his way, to see him again and embrace his familiarity. She turned off the stove, dumped the food on to a plate, and called out to Dudley, all the while never glancing in the person's direction.

"Petunia," his smooth voice glided over her, and it was exactly the same as she remembered it more than twenty years ago. "Petunia, look at me."

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to look at him, drinking in the wrinkle-free features, the youthful, yet mature and handsomely boyish face. It was terrifying to think that he had not aged a bit over the course of the years – how odd indeed – and was here in her house, having picked a fight with her husband and came out unscathed, still wearing an old-fashioned, button-up, white long-sleeve shirt with a black tuxedo jacket over it, complete with a silky red ribbon tied at the base of his collar. Still the same as always, that man was. Her voice caught in her throat as she struggled to find the right words to say.

"Grandfather," she breathed, gulping silently at his amused smile. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"But of course, Petunia," he said, the rich tenor of his voice flowing like liquid into her eardrums. He stepped aside elegantly to admit a nervous waddling boy into the kitchen.

Petunia immediately sat Dudley down in a chair and set the plate of food in front of him. "Here, Duddykins," she cooed, momentarily forgetting about the man in the doorway. "Eat it all up. Harry will be back with the groceries soon, so he'll make you dinner tonight."

Dudley just stuffed his face. The man in the doorway made a face.

"What horrid manners your son has," he said.

Petunia wrung her hands nervously. "Please excuse him, I am afraid that I've had not the time to teach him properly," she said lamely. "But, what _are_ you doing here after so long? I – I find it quite odd that you are still alive, and – well, why is it that you look like you are still twenty-one?"

Something in the man's eyes frightened her a bit, something very dark flashed in the dark-brown eyes.

"Petunia," he said, not unkindly, "Let us discuss this elsewhere where we cannot be overheard."

Vernon was in the parlor, so that room was out of the question. They went upstairs in the hallway, and crammed themselves into the small bathroom at the end of the hall.

The man turned to face the mirror. "Petunia," he said, his voice losing its characteristic warmth and kindliness. "I have a secret that I have decided to tell you. If Lily had been alive this day, I would have told her too."

Petunia trembled. "But her son is alive." The words rushed forth from her being without her permission. The man perked up.

"She had a son?" His tone was all too eager. "Where is he? What's his name?"

Petunia swallowed hard. "Harry Potter," she whispered, clutching her breast absently. "He is out shopping right now –"

The sound of the door opening downstairs, followed by Vernon's distinct roar of "Where have you been, boy?", confirmed that the topic of their conversation had returned from his trip.

"Well!" the man seemed delighted. "If he truly is her son, I should inform him of this as well."

"What about Dudley? He's my son, he should be told," Petunia spoke up.

The man waved a hand lazily. "Do what you will, I doubt that boy of yours will even care about the secret I am about to reveal, and he will go and blab it all out to his friends and neighbors about me," said the man.

Petunia sighed. "Very well, he will not join our conversation, Grandfather," she murmured.

"Excellent choice, my dear."

They entered the kitchen once again, where a skinny black-haired teenager was putting away the newly bought groceries.

"Harry," called Petunia, catching the teenager's attention. "There's someone you and Dudley should meet."

Dudley glanced at her from his place at the table, mouthing 'me too?' Petunia nodded.

The man dipped into a low bow. "How do you do, Harry?" he said, straightening. "I am Aaron Evans, your great grandfather."

"What?" Harry gasped. Dudley stared at the man with wide, round eyes.

"Yes, it is hard to believe that I am that old. I look like I am about twenty-one, yes?" They nodded. "Harry, please come with me. There's something I need to speak to you and your aunt about."

"What about me?" Dudley whined, frowning when he realized he wasn't included.

"Oh, this doesn't concern you, boy," the man said. "We will be done in a moment, so please wait for us."

Harry was confused but he followed them back up to the upstairs bathroom anyway.

"So –" Harry hesitated. "You're my great-granddad?"

The man sat heavily down on the closed cover of the toilet. "Look, before I tell you two my big secret, you need to promise that you will reveal this to _no one._ And I mean it." His dark eyes were no longer glinting with liveliness. In fact, the man's entire posture seemed . . . weary, tired, and exhausted. Harry's instincts screamed that the man was suspicious, but he ignored it because he wanted to know who exactly this man was, and why he needed to tell them something so secret they could not inform anyone else.

They promised.

"Thank you," the man whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I – my real name isn't Aaron Evans, believe it or not." Both Petunia and Harry stared at him, bewildered. "That was an alias I conjured for myself almost a hundred years ago. My real name, which I haven't gone by since the days of when I was . . . an exorcist –" Petunia and Harry shared puzzled glances "– is Allen Walker. The reason I look so young, and the reason why I'm still alive even after a hundred years, is that my body is co-habited with a man from the _Noah_ family, a group of people who called themselves the 'true' apostles of God." Before their astonished eyes he changed in appearance. His dark-brown hair bleached until it was entirely white, his dark eyes lightened to a liquid-like silver-gray, and a strange red scar appeared on the left side of his face. "His name is Neah. He was a traitor of the family, and I have inherited his ability to use a piano to control a dimensional traveling system called 'Noah's Ark'. I am telling you this because the 'play' has begun once again – a man by the name of the Millennium Earl is setting the stage for a new tragedy to begin. It involves weapons from the past that can only be destroyed by either the Noah family or the power of a substance called Innocence." Here, he pulled off his left glove and showed them the black hand with a cross on the back of it. Petunia and Harry both stared at it in shock and wonder. "I am warning you now, neither you, nor the magicians of this time, can stop him. Only accommodators of the Innocence have a chance, and I'm afraid I am one of the only ones left."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean we can't stop him?" he asked.

"The Millennium Earl, as well as the Noah family, is immune to the spells cast by the Wizarding World," Allen replied.

"But then aren't they in danger too?"

"Of course! But Innocence is not compatible with magic users, as far as I know," Allen said. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to be on my way." His odd appearance receded back to its other form when he got up.

As he left, his hair and skin seemed to darken for a split moment, from white to black, from pale to ashen. But the next second he had assumed his alias once more, and Harry was convinced he had really just been seeing things.

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**This is the next chapter. I am most surprised that I finished this chapter more quickly than the second chapter for **_**Break It Down**_**. Please review, to tell me what you think. No flames.**

**MangaFreak15**


	3. Chapter 2: A Sinister Plot

**Shattered Dawn**

Summary: The Evans were not truly Evans; no, in fact, had they been given a choice they would have been born as Walkers. HP x DGM

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**Chapter Two – A Sinister Plot**

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1995, an unknown location

It was dark – _really_ dark – and the rough stone walls of the cavern offered hardly any good surfaces to nail candle holders to, thus the lack of light in the dank, moldy hallways. Unfortunately the cave was also the perfect hidden passage for villains, and it led straight up to a trapdoor in the basement of a mansion that was a little brighter due to the eerily glowing yellow lamps attached to the walls. The halls of the mansion were covered with dark blue and purple wallpaper. Old pictures hung on the walls, depicting a man with a top hat and a cane, as well as many other images of what seemed to be a family – their ash-gray skin, dark hair, and the intriguing row of seven crosses lined across their foreheads wouldn't make anyone think otherwise. A couple of maids passed through the hallways, both of them bearing a black star mark on their foreheads; a pentagram, the universal symbol of an Akuma. Indeed, this gloomy household was none other than the current base of operations for the great and evil lord of creation – the Millennium Earl.

"To what do we owe this unexpected gathering, Earl?" spoke up a handsome young man of Portuguese lineage.

All members of the clan were seated at a long rectangular table, with said person at the very head of it. The Millennium Earl sat back in his chair and contemplated how to break the news to his beloved family. Nearly a century ago they had defeated the Black Order, and had supposedly managed to kill the nuisance known as Allen Walker in the great fire that had consumed part of the city and left it in charred ruins and smoking black ashes. Shame that Cross Marian hadn't kicked the bucket as well, the annoying thorn that he was; but no matter, that man had died eventually, if not from battle or assassination then age. However, it seemed that Akuma spies he had planted in the town of Little Whinging to keep watch over the Potter brat – who was the arch nemesis of the Earl's most recent partner, Lord Voldemort – had recently reported a mysterious young man visiting the house the boy dwelled in, barging in with hardly enough opposition from a man three times his size, spending a little over an hour there, and later seen exiting the house with oddly familiar features receding back to the dull brown of the form he had entered with. His spies had concluded that Allen Walker had _not_ died that day the Black Order was defeated, but instead had somehow survived, picked up an alias, and spent the last ninety-five years going around as a mysteriously youthful man named Aaron Evans. No doubt that 'Aaron Evans' was actually 'Allen Walker', but the only way that stupid brat could have survived that day was due to the Fourteenth's memories stored in him. That must mean that the traitor was also alive, much to the Earl's irritation. On top of that, he didn't even know why Walker decided to visit Potter's relatives' house. Why, indeed . . .

The Earl sipped at his tea. "Your brother is alive, my children," he said, loudly. "The Fourteenth is still alive, as is that pest Allen Walker."

Dead silence greeted him as the entire family gaped at him. Road was the first to recover, as she leaped up from her seat with a squeal, "Is he really alive? Can I see him, please, please, please?"

Then it was Tyki, who looked down at his gloved hands while contemplating the unbelievable piece of news that he just received. "So that boy is still alive. How interesting."

Next was Lulubell, who looked coldly towards the Earl. "Shall I dispose of him?"

Jasdevi leapt up with a simultaneous cry of "that bastard's apprentice is still alive!"

The other members recovered eventually, disbelief still clouding their eyes.

"Now now, children, settle down," said the Earl, a wide grin splitting his face. "We'll get rid of him this time, no exceptions. This is what we'll do . . ."

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It was late at night, though Harry was still very much awake, and writing reply letters to his friends at the Burrow. He included the part where he had met the person who was supposedly his great-grandfather – however shocking it was because of his youthful appearance – but paused as he thought about writing the part about the truth behind 'Aaron Evans'. The man had made them promise not to tell, yet the urge was powerfully overwhelming this time, and he itched to spill it to someone else. But what if the man found out? What then? He squeezed his eyes shut as he debated with himself about it, and in the end he decided he would simply not include the man altogether. He crumpled the parchment into a ball and tossed it into his trashcan. He then sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling blankly. What was the point of writing the reply letters then? Was it simply to let Dumbledore know that he was alive, safe, and okay? Screw that!

At that moment something really unexpected happened, even stranger than Aaron Evans.

A man came through the wall.

A _man_ came through the _wall._

Harry leapt out of his chair and backed away from the man, who was dressed like a gentleman, yet had long, wavy black hair and a large cross on his throat. "Good evening, boy," the man greeted. "You'll be coming with me."

"Who are you?" asked Harry sharply, discreetly feeling around for his wand. He knew that underage magic was not allowed outside of school, but in the case of self-defense he was sure the Ministry would let it slide.

"My name is Tyki Mikk, boy," said the man. "I have come to fetch you for the Earl. We have been alerted that there was a sighting of someone who we have not seen in such a long time. I dare say that man will come running if we have you in our grasp."

Harry's hand closed around the smooth stick that served as his wand. He whipped it out and pointed it threateningly at the surprised intruder, who – much to his confusion – began to laugh. "Don't bother, boy," he said. "Your silly wizard spells will not affect me."

Harry's eyes widened as he recalled what his great-grandfather had told him earlier that day.

_"The Millennium Earl, as well as the Noah family, is immune to the spells cast by the Wizarding World."_

"You're part of the Noah family, aren't you?" he asked quietly, lowering his wand.

Tyki blinked. "That man told you?" he said incredulously. "Why would he?"

"What's it to you?" Harry retorted, hating how helpless he was feeling in this situation. "Why are you after me? Why are you after him?"

"Look, boy," said Tyki placidly, adopting a thoughtful look. "All I want to know is what relation you have with him that warranted his visit earlier. He hasn't shown his true face to anyone since our battle almost a century ago –"

"You're that old too?" Harry half-yelled, keeping quiet as he could so as not to awaken his sleeping relatives.

Tyki looked almost insulted. "Yes, boy," he replied. "I'm more than a hundred years old. As is he."

Harry pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Nope, that guy was still there. What the hell was going on? What happened all those years ago between his great-grandfather and these enemies of his?

"Boy."

The man's voice snapped him from his thoughts. "What?" he replied intelligently, seeing Tyki's expectant glance.

"I'm still waiting for an answer, boy," said Tyki. "What's your relation to Allen Walker . . . or, as he is currently known, Aaron Evans?"

Harry blurted it out before he could stop himself, "He's my great-grandfather."

Tyki was positively stunned. Not only had he survived, but that brat got _married?_ And had _kids?_ And_ grandchildren _too? He was speechless.

"Then you're worth more than I expected," he murmured, a sadistic grin spreading across his features. "That Allen Walker will not escape us this time."

He grabbed Harry and pulled him through the wall, ignoring the boy's protests and struggles against him. "Let me go! What the bloody hell are you doing? Blimey!"

When they finally got to the ground, they were greeted by a rotund figure in a coat, carrying a talking pink umbrella with a pumpkin head attached to it. "Tyki-sama, what took you so long, lero?" cried the umbrella.

"Earl, I have found out something very interesting," said Tyki, holding the struggling teenager out in front of him. "This boy is related to Allen Walker."

The umbrella gasped. "Impossible, lero! That boy looks nothing like that stupid exorcist, lero!" it said.

The Earl stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I knew I should have killed him that time," he muttered. "Now he's going around spawning more devils to annoy me –"

"Tyki Mikk, I suggest you put him down_ right now_," said a frigid voice from behind them.

Harry saw the sadistic grin again. The man promptly dropped him to the ground as he turned around to face the man standing behind him, his golden eyes gleaming with anticipation. The Earl's grin stretched even wider, and Harry shuddered as he saw the cold brutality present in his eyes.

"So we meet again . . . Allen Walker."

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**Was that a cliffhanger? Yes it was. These chapters aren't really very long, because I intend to keep them short like this, but I might write longer chapters in the future. Please review to tell me what you think. No flames.**

**MangaFreak15**


	4. Chapter 3: Enter the Fourteenth

**I sincerely apologize for the horrible lateness of this chapter. My life took a turn . . . in the wrong direction. That is, the holidays, then school again, and on top of that the laptop I got for Christmas crashed and I lost the file I had for this story, on top of all the other files I had, including a fiction story I started (IT WAS 33 FUCKING PAGES LONG, GODDAMNIT). So yeah. Enough bitching. Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

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**Shattered Dawn**

Summary: The Evans were not truly Evans; no, in fact, had they been given the choice, they would have been born as Walkers. HP x DGM

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**Chapter Three - Enter the Fourteenth**

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_"So we meet again . . . Allen Walker."_

1995, Privet Drive

"My, my, shounen," said Tyki, a malicious grin upturning the corners of his lips. "What a surprise!"

"Shut it, you bloody wanker," growled Allen. "Leave Harry out of this. He isn't involved in our unfinished affairs."

Tyki laughed, a hard, cold laugh that sent unpleasant chills racing down Harry's spine. The man took a step towards his great-grandfather, a gleam of anticipation clearly seen being radiated from the wild golden eyes. The young wizard scrambled hastily to his feet and dashed over to his great-grandfather's side. At this time, it seemed his Gryffindor courage was failing him badly. These people – the Noah clan – were terrifying, even more so than Lord Voldemort. Why, Voldemort seemed like an insignificant little ant when compared to the clan. Tyki himself made Harry's blood almost freeze in his veins; he was just that scary.

And yet, even as Harry trembled a little, his great-grandfather held firm. There was neither fear nor panic present in Allen's rigid posture. Harry clenched a fist in the soft material of Allen's coat, seeking to comfort himself with the more familiar presence of the man who claimed to be his great-grandfather. He took a deep, deep breath. That's right, he could do this. He was a Gryffindor. He was _brave_. He had to be, for his sake and his great-grandfather's sake. He would not run away with his tail between his legs, because he was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? Wasn't he? Even if his wizard's magic didn't work, there was still some way he could help, he just knew there had to be.

Another step in their direction, but this time Harry did not allow his courage to betray him. He slowly released Allen's coat from his grasp and stood tall and proud by his side. He would not run away. He would never run away, even if his life depended on it.

"Stay back."

Harry looked at his great-grandfather in surprise. "What? No way! I can't just sit around and do nothing while you risk your life fighting these guys!" he said.

"No. Stay back, stay away," said Allen firmly. "They are too dangerous. I will not allow you to be hurt."

Harry frowned, his bottom lip quivering as he resisted the urge to pout childishly. "But –" he tried again.

"No."

_He's really serious about this,_ Harry thought. _These people – they must be more dangerous than I thought._

So he could only watch as Tyki slowly stalked towards them, his wicked golden eyes shining with an eerie light. Allen moved forward, leaving Harry behind him, as he prepared for a battle on a scale that he had not fought at since his days as an Exorcist.

To Harry's surprise, Tyki paused for a moment, and then thrust his hands out. A whirlwind of purple butterflies spiraled from the palms of his hands and headed towards Allen, who sidestepped the first wave and ducked the second. As he stood up again, the butterflies circled around and prepared to attack him again. Instead of dodging them, he extended his arm. A flute materialized in his hand, which he swiftly brought to his mouth.

Harry watched, mesmerized, as his great-grandfather played a quick but smooth tune that created a transparent barrier around him. As the strange butterflies met the surface of the barrier, they instantly disintegrated.

"It seems that you've learned a new trick or two, Allen Walker," said the fat man behind Tyki. His wide grin made Harry feel cold in ways he could not describe.

"Millennium Earl," Allen acknowledged. "I can't say I'm happy to see you."

"No need to worry about that, Allen Walker. Tyki-pon will take care of you," replied the Earl.

"Not if I take care of him first," said Allen. At the same time, Tyki hissed towards the Earl, "I thought I told you to stop calling me that!"

Allen snapped his fingers.

Harry was startled when a white light exploded in the sky, forming a strange congregation of glowing diamonds and trapezoids that descended slowly to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyki visibly recoil in shock.

"Don't think I haven't learned anything over this past century. I don't need the piano to control the Ark anymore," Allen said softly. "Now, Millennium Earl, Tyki, I do not wish to involve the innocent people living here in our fight. Let us relocate to a safer place, where we will have no limits on our powers."

"Still naïve as ever, shounen," said Tyki tauntingly. Still, he and the Earl stepped into the Ark and vanished into the light. As Allen started to follow, Harry reached out and grabbed his coat.

"Wait!"

Allen paused. Harry took a deep breath.

"Please, let me come with you," he said quietly. "I'll feel guilty if I can't do anything to help you. Even if I'm not strong enough, even if I'm not powerful enough, there has to be something I can do!"

Allen was silent. For a moment Harry thought that his great-grandfather's silence meant that he was still rejecting his offer of help, but then Allen sighed, and turned around.

"If you want to help me that badly, stay here, but send a letter to Dumbledore informing him that we will be using the Forbidden Forest as our battleground. No one is to enter, lest we involve innocents," said Allen. "Tell Dumbledore that I have appeared again."

_Again? What does he mean?_ thought Harry, watching as Allen disappeared into the Ark. The Ark then vanished, leaving Harry standing alone in the street. He hurried back into his house, eager to get started on the letter. He would not let his great-grandfather down.

As soon as he got to his room (and managed not to wake his relatives up), he whipped out a sheet of parchment and his quill and began to scribble the letter to Dumbledore.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Sir, I have received notice that a man named Aaron Evans is my great-grandfather. He wishes to inform you that his enemies have contacted him again, and that he will be using the Forbidden Forest as his battleground. I was almost kidnapped tonight (and it wasn't Voldemort or his Death Eaters). Have you heard of the Noah clan, Professor? Please reply soon._

_From, Harry_

Harry sealed the letter in an envelope before tying it to Hedwig's leg. He stroked the top of her head softly, whispering, "Take this to Dumbledore." The snowy owl nipped his finger affectionately, before spreading her wings to soaring off into the still darkness of the night. Harry watched her go, wondering how his great-grandfather was faring against his enemies.

"He'll win," the teenager reassured himself. "He'll definitely win."

* * *

The moment Allen Walker stepped into the Forbidden Forest, Tyki attacked. In the darkness of the forest the two battled, neither losing nor gaining the upper hand. The creatures of the forest dared not to disturb the fight, not even the Acromantula or the brave centaurs. This battle was something that could not be interfered with. It was a long fight between two beings of war, who held tensions between themselves that they sought to be rid of.

It was a long fight indeed. The Millennium Earl watched from the background, his ever-present grin plastered on his face as he witnessed the destruction.

Allen Walker was no longer the pitiful little boy he had met all those years ago in the graveyard, after the death of Mana Walker. He was the host of the Fourteenth Noah, Neah Walker, or perhaps he was the Fourteenth himself. As the Earl watched, he noticed that Allen did not use his Innocence. Did he even still have it?

Tyki also took note of this odd occurrence.

"Shounen," he purred, dodging one of Allen's attacks. "No, you aren't one anymore. Shall I call you Allen? Or perhaps Walker? Or maybe even . . . the Fourteenth?"

Allen smirked at him. "I know what you want to ask, _Mikk,_" he said. "So stop bullshitting. You and the Earl both want to know why I'm not using Innocence, isn't that right?"

"How did you know?" said Tyki, leering at the man.

"Oh, it's quite obvious," replied Allen. He paused, holding his flute out in front of him. He blew into it swiftly, blasting out a series of keening notes that reverberated harshly in Tyki's ears. He winced, and dropped to his knees. Allen took the opportunity to dash towards his opponent and slam his head into the ground.

Tyki coughed as his face met the dirt. But he used his ability to disappear into the ground, leaving Allen growling in frustration. The man stood up and looked around wildly for his opponent, making sure that Tyki could not get an advantage over him by using his Noah ability.

He leaped back as Tyki's arm was thrust out from the ground. "I won't let you catch me off-guard again," said Allen. "I will make sure that filthy hand of yours doesn't pluck my heart out –" And before he finished his sentence, his skin darkened to the unmistakable ash-gray color of the Noah clan. Seven crosses appeared on his forehead and his eye color bled to molten-gold.

The new Noah stood still, smiling eerily at the Millennium Earl with the odd leering grin of his. The Earl grinned back, his eyes shining wickedly.

"Good morning, Millennium Earl," said the Noah.

"Good morning . . . Fourteenth."

* * *

A man sat his office, reclining against the back of his chair. The fireplace crackled merrily, and a beautiful red-and-gold plumed phoenix was resting on its perch nearby. The early morning seemed awfully ominous, for reasons he could not explain. After the events of the Goblet of Fire, ultimately resulting in the death of a student, he hadn't had a moment of peace. Voldemort was once again on the rise, and he did not know whether, this time, he had enough power to stop him. He was getting old, after all.

His musings were interrupted by a trill from the phoenix. A familiar snowy owl pecked at his window. The man noticed the letter tied to her leg, as he strode over to the window to let her in.

He carefully took the letter and opened it to read its contents. His blue eyes sharpened noticeably as he read it. It was from Harry, and it was about a man who hadn't been seen or heard from since Lily Evans's graduation from Hogwarts. This was definitely important. _He_ was back.

The man, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, heaved a long, loud sigh into the silence of his office.

"Aaron Evans – no. _Allen Walker_."

* * *

**Dun dun dun! Done. It's short, but hell, it's _something_. Especially after all the crap that's been happening. In fact, while I was writing this chapter, I was getting lectured about how I should be focusing on getting straight A's. My grandmother was bragging to me about how smart my mom was and made me feel worthless in the process. Joy, right? I even told her that I don't have much of an interest in anything except cooking and writing fiction. Yes, FICTION, not FANFICTION. Fanfiction is a hobby to me. Pah, I guess 4 A+'s aren't enough for her. I need A's in every class (which is, frankly, impossible for me). I can't really blame her for that though, most Asian families are like that ...**

**MangaFreak15**


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